I Smell A Rat In The Junior Cup Draw

THE text of today's sermon is drawn from the secret rule book of the SJFA, reading from the second chapter, at the first verse:

"We cannae let thae Ayrshire bar stewards huv too-muny teams in the later roons o' the Scottish Cup."

Yea, verily, it came to pass that, in 2014 the horrible prospect arose of potentially four Ayrshire clubs progressing into the last four of that wonderful competition, for one of the most over-the-top yet elegant trophies in all of football.

The quarter-final draw, which is scandalously under-reported in the MSM, has thrown-up the chance of four semi-finalists from God's own county - AND NO AUCHINLECK TALBOT!!!!

Mind you, I vouch, I am not the only fitba man in these quiet, rolling hills of South Ayrshire, who is convinced that the Hampden oval ball and square ball were in evidence in the draw - how else can we read the fact that Scumnock v the Glen comes out as the first quarter-final tie, this is the one possible pairing from the teams left which could come close to filling Rugby Park for the final - as the whole of the rest of Cumnock and Doon Valley decamped to Killie to try to help the Glen stop the common enemy.

Still, Townhead will be jumping for the last eight match, and, from the way the Glen rode their luck in seeing off Shotts in the fifth round, who is to say Tommy Bryce's boys might not be able to end Scumnock's hopes of landing the Scottish in their Centenary season.

Fans of the final being reduced to a genuine, old-fashioned junior kicing match for the final, such as me - I still recall with relish the 1994 "Game of Shame" between the Glen and Largs, which saw more Govan Kisses delivered in that part of Govan than for many years previously. Well, should the Glen and Hurlford United go all the way - it could happen again.

I SEE Sir Alex has revealed he still has his old primary teacher's "strap", bequeathed to him on the basis, he had had more use of it than anyone.

Don't believe that for a second. I reckon he stole it on his last day at Broomloan Primary and kept it; and that, all that talk of "hair dryers" was a smoke-screen. He used his purloined "Lochgelly Persuader" to get great results out of all those big-name players

I can just visualise all those half-time team talks; Fergie, pacing up and down in front of his team, pulls out his Lochgelly and speaks: "Beckham, Scholes, Giggs - see if youse disnae overturn that two-goal deficit and score a third in this half, youse is each gettin' six o' the best when youse does come in at time-up: noo, get ott there and get playin'"; cue a great second-half turn round as fear kicks in.



REGULAR readers will know, I don't have a lot of time for Mad Phil from Donegal, but, on the subject of the King in South Africa, I have to admit, I think he is spot-on. As was the late Paul McConville, whose disection of the South African court verdict on the would-be Apprentice Boy of Ibrox. That should be compulsory reading for all with an interest in current events down Edmiston Drive way.



A final word on the new Scotland change strip. Of the many people to whom I have spoken on this vexing subject, only one, my grand-daughter, has expressed an: "I like it" opinion on the new strip.

So that's it, 15-year-old girls is the market the SFA are after. But, to be fair to her, she did add that she didn't think it looked nice on blokes, particularly on Scott Brown!!



STILL, loosely, on the subject of 15-year-old girls. Did you see how many fans Doncaster Rovers pulled into a reserve game this week, by simply allowing one member of One Direction - who I understand are: "a popular music group", play for them.

Five thousand, five hundred!!! Jings, Crivvens, Help Ma Boab, that's more than most SPFL Premiership clubs can pull in for a home first-team game not involving the Hoops.

What next, Paolo Natini playing centre midfield for St Mirren? The Proclaimers as the two centre-backs for Hibs? Rod Stewart playing just off the striker for Celtic - although, to be fair, he'd probably be more use than Gorgeous Giorgios on a wet day.

They "Dress" Tripe As Well - Which Perhaps Explains Our New Change Strip

AS a former player, who was proud to wear Ayr Rugby Club's pink and black hoops, it perhaps ill-beholds me to be critical, but, the new Scotland change strip is - so far on the extremes of bad it is: FUCKING AWFUL.

 

As a St Mirren fan once remarked when he first clapped eyes on the old Clydebank "explosion" change strip from the days when Wet Wet Wet sponsored them: "Who designed that - Stevie Wonder or Marti Pellow on a particularly heavy trip involving 'substances'?"

 

I worry about the design lecturers at our art colleges, when you see some of the combinations which today's fashion designers come up with.

 

Mind you, Scotland has previous on tasteless strips. The rot began with the notorious 'garter belt' shorts for the 1986 World Cup, and it's been downhill ever since.

 

For my money, the last half-decent Scotland strip was the 1978 World Cup one - with the Umbro diamonds down the sleeve seam.

 

Scotland's rugby team, regardless of the results, for me, looks more like a Scotland team when wearing this season's 'back in blue' home strip. Of course, that was Italian-designed.

 

We have to have a change strip, so, what was wrong with the old traditional Rosebery strip of blessed memory? Salmon pink and magenta hoops, over white shorts, with the time-honoured dark blue socks with the red band on top. Old-fashioned, but classy, just how I want my Scotland teams to be.

 

 

 

I SEE Dave King has again been spouting forth to a compliant MSM. This "convicted criminal" (copyright Mad Phil from Donegal) seems to see himself as the Keeper of the Keys to Ibrox, the Last Bastion of Decency and Dignity - didn't stop him fiddling his taxes though.

 

When you see a guy who has already donated and lost £20 million to the Rangers Brand trying to re-define himself as a sort of Young Pretender, trying to rally the Ludges, if not the Clans, to restore the old traditions - well, if you're me, you smell a rat.

 

I suspect the first thing DK wants is his £20 million  back, plus a wee profit for his troubles. This, to me, makes him no better than the current spivs trying to help themselves to the seemingly bottomless pit of money from gullible Bears prepared to fund the lavish life styles of the men at the top at Rangers - aye, you too Alistair.

 

The SFA could do Scottish football in general and Rangers in particular a very big favour if they were to announce that, on account of his conviction for tax fraud in South Africa, there is no place for Dave King in Scottish football.

 

 

 

POOR we Michael Johnston is back in trouble from the Killie fans. Somebody has worked-out that the inevitable Celtic league triumph could be sealed at Rugby Park, so, the natives are bracing themselves for another MJ sell-out, as he hands over virtually the keys to the ground to the vast Celtic following he expects to want to be there to witness history.

 

The Killie fans will, not for the first time, be decamped to one small corner of their own stadium to witness the coronation, and, they aint happy.

 

Since football today is all about money, you can hardly blame MJ - I mean, it's not as if most of the seats inside Rugby Park have a bum parked on them, other than when either half of the Bigot Brothers turns-up to win the league there, so, who can blame him for seeking to cash-in.

 

That said, the one-horse-race which is the Scottish Premiership, hasn't exactly been a big drawing card for the Celtic Family this season. I expect them to turn-up at the ground for the trophy presentation, but, be little bothered about events there or elsewhere pending that date.

 

 

 

 

Well Done The Dons, But, How Frustrating Must It Be For Derek McInnes?

IT must be incredibly frustrating to be Derek McInnes, or Stuart McCall or Jackie McNamara, the three current "top" managers of the diddy teams in Scotland.

 

Take McInnes, the current flavour of the month as the manager most-likely to put a spoke in the wheels of the Celtic juggernaut, currently cruising towards yet another Scottish title.

 

It is brilliant that the Dons have, in the first few weeks of 2014, not only killed-off Celtic's hopes of a league and cup double, but have now become the first team to beat Neil Lennon's Champions-Elect in the league this season.

 

However, McInnes's delight at that must be tempered somewhat by the realisation that, while his men have gone to Celtic Park and won, then beaten the Hoops at Pittodrie, in between they became the first team this season to exit Firhill without at least a point to show for their visit. That simply isn't good enough for a team with genuine aspirations to not merely be First Loser, which is what second place is, but to offer a genuine challenge to the assumption that Celtic are guaranteed not only this season's title, but perhaps the next seven or eight.

 

I have long argued that, for so-long as the men running our clubs, and I don't mean the managers here, are happy to treat their staff and fans with contempt by not insisting on ever-higher standards, then Scottish football will continue to stagnate.

 

Yes, we have a problem in Scotland in, that ever since we first showed the Saxons how to play this simple game, back in the 1870s, our brightest and best - and in many cases a few off the second shelf as well, have gazed upon Dr Johnson's "Finest vista" and taken that High Road to England. Given the huge financial chasm which now exists between ever Celtic and the over-paying tribute act down Edmiston Drive and even the middle of the road clubs in the top two tiers in England, keeping our brightest and best at home and building squads capable of challenging the status quo is only going to get harder.

 

Squareing that circle will be difficult, managers such as McInnes have to demand more of their players, keep encouraging them, but, at the same time, reminding them that, for all the riches darn sarf, they might be more-fulfilled staying up here and becoming winners.

 

Tuesday night's Aberdeen result was also a wake-up call for Neil Lennon and his men. Yes, they are going to win the Scottish title, but, dumped out of the League Cup by Morton, out of the Scottish by Aberdeen and now unable to complete an unbeaten season - the Emperors' clothing is suddenly looking threadbare at the least.

 

If they cannot go through the domestic season unbeaten, it doesn't say much for their chances of being where the Celtic Family think they ought to be in Europe next season.

 

 

 

BY the way - I am now coming to the conclusion, somebody really should put Rangers out of their misery. The events of the past few years, leading-up to liquidation and rebirth have not got through the the guys running the club, or to the vast majority of their massive fan base.

 

The men inside Ibrox seem to have learned nothing. They continue to over-spend, ignore such basics as having a budget and sticking to it and they continue to insist: We Arra Peepul.

 

Those who fail to learn the lessons of history are only fated to repeat them - I predict liquidation two too now.

Us v Poland and the Republic for Second, but, Georgia's on My Mind

Germany, Georgia, Gibraltar, Poland, Republic of Ireland and Scotland.

WELL, not the worst European Championship draw we could have got. My first reaction is, we're in a three-way fight for second place with the Poles and the Paddies - Germany will, as ever, be expected to stroll through at the head of the group.

Also, we will surely not finish bottom - I would fancy Muirkirk Juniors (managed by Jose Quitongo) to beat Gibraltar, far less sending out the big guns such as Auchinleck Talbot.

The game which worries me is Georgia away. Losing there is what scuppered us when Big Eck McLeish was having a good spell as Scotland boss, I'd hate to see the same fate befall WGS.

That said - how come England, as always, get a cushy draw - and the first reaction from some of their fans is: "Boring group!"

Jeez, I'd quite happily settle for a boring, winnable group.

Thing Can Only Get Better For Wee Chesney And Us

WHILE Scottish rugby endures a coach who is, in oval ball circles more-disliked than Berti Vogts, George Burley or Craig Levein ever were at their lowest points in public disapproval, under wee Chesney, Scottish football is on the up.

The squad WGS announced this week for the forthcoming game against the Poles has arguably more-quality than any we have had for some years. We are still a long way from being where we want to be, but, hope is in the air.

Great to see Darren Fletcher back, superb to see WGS having genuine hard choices to make - in goal, at full back and up front. We have hope again - I am starting to worry!!

THE DRAW for the next European Championships is almost upon us, and, while we will be in Pot Four, I think it is fair to say that, there isn't a lot to choose from the countries in pots two, three and four.

Of course, with the pessimism which we Scots seem to ingest from our mothers' breast, we fear ending-up in a Group of Death. We never get the "easy" groups which always seem to fall England's way. Mind you, I'd rather we had it difficult than easy - we have a long history of tripping-up in games we rather fancy our chances of winning.

I HAD to laugh at this week's news that Allan Hutton has been condemned to life in the Aston Villa reserves, because he's "too-expensive" for Villa, on his reported £45,000 per week.

Nobody forced him to accept that salary; mind you, who in his right mind is going to say, when offered that much: "No, no, that's far-too much, I could'nt accept a penny more than half that".

If Hutton has an agent half-way worth his salt, he'd be trying to reach a compromise with the club which would allow him to leave with a pay-off and get first-team football elsewhere. Unless, of course, he's quite happy to allow his international career to atrophy and die, for the £3 million he will reportedly make by sitting still and seeing-out his contract.

Hutton will be 30 in November, he will be 32 when his Villa contract ends. His next more will probably be his last chance of a big-money one, but, to get that, he has to still be in the Scotland squad.

He's in a difficult position. Of course, he could always sit still, take the money and return to Ayrshire to buy either Ayr United or Kilmarnock - or maybe, if Mad Phil from Donegal's scenario comes to pass - he could go back and pick-up Rangers for a song. 

The Green Brigade Was Not The Story

SO - they're back. The Green Brigade marched back into Celtic Park on Sunday and, immediately with that sure touch which has made them disliked by all right-minded Scottish football fans, our friends in the mainstream media made them, rather than another impressive win and an Anthony Stokes hat-trick, THE STORY.

 

Heaven forfend that I should agree with that lady, but, the Blessed Margaret Thatcher was never a great believer in giving those of whom she disapproved, what she termed: "The oxygen of publicity". Perhaps the msm should have adopted that stance and concentrated on the main course on Sunday, what happens ON the park.

 

I know several long-term Celtic supporters who are more than a little disparaging about the GB: "A bunch of wee neds in sore need of a good kicking" was one opinion I heard form someone whose membership of the Celtic Family is absolute.

 

However, we have to accept, every Scottish club has its lunatic fringe  in its support - why should Celtic be any different?

 

I can see why Neil Lennon welcomed their return - old trouper that he is, he recognises the positive effect a claque can inject. If (and I don't) you accept the image of Neil Lennon as a Celtic Ultra, only one inside the tent, rather than on the sidelines looking in, there might be a case for tagging him as a potential GB member. No, I think he's cleverer than that, but, in this case, he's playing to the gallery.

 

 

 

TO RETURN to - "That woman". I always thought one of her better ideas, one sold to her by a then Tory MP who was also Chairman of a Football League club - David Smith of Luton I think he was called.

 

He wanted to make membership of a football club compulsory for supporters. Now, this would have been a hard one to pull-off, but, it could have been done. However, the massed ranks of the FA, Football League, SFA, Scottish League and so forth, plus the combined might of the UK football media, killed the notion at birth.

 

But, think of it. If you had to be a member to get into your local club, you would be subject to more discipline -step out of line and you'd be out; however, on the other hand, surely as a member, you would be entitled to a say on how your club was run.

 

Big time football has drifted away from its core audience, the working-class male. Club membership would close that gap and bring both sides together, as well as limiting the power of the meglamanic chairman.

 

On the same theme - some years ago I read a Sports Illustrated piece on the Green Bay Packers of the NFL. The one club which is owned by its fans - the good people of Green Bay, Wisconsin. It made fascinating reading and could be, I suspect, with the minimum of changes to reflect UK law, be a blueprint for genuine fan ownership of a club.

 

 

 

STILL on women, I see Ann Budge, who looks set to be Mrs Hearts, has her own exit strategy already set out. She is looking, at first glance, like a female Fergus McCann.

Flower of England - When Will We See His Likes Again

THE football world is a darker place tonight, with the death, aged 91, of Sir Tom Finney. Forget the 11 Heroes of 1966, ignore the claims of Keegan, or Gascoigne or the rest, even today's vastly over-rated Rooney, who have followed him - perhaps George Best was his equal, but, for this Scotsman, there was no finer British footballer than The Preston Plumber - and - I speak from experience, having seen him play.

The Tartan Army gave its highest accolade to Finney. The TA has always recognised class. Alfredo de Stefano, Ferenc Puskas, Stanley Matthews, Franz Beckenbauer, Diego Maradona, Pele, Zinadine Zedane - Hampden has risen to applaud their endeavours.

    They also applauded Finney, even when he was inflicting terrible pain on them, inspiring England to Hampden victory after Hampden victory in the decade between 1948 and 1958.  To be fair, Scotland enjoyed a great run at Wembley in the immediate post-war era, but even Scottish football writers - those oft-derided: “Fans With Typewriters” recognised Finney’s class. His performance in the 1951 Wembley match, in which Scotland beat ten-man England 3-2 was praised to the heavens by every one of the Scottish football writers on-duty that day.

    And why not? He may have been born in that town and played all his club football for Preston, but his career was heavily-influenced by the Scotsmen who have been so identified with “Proud Preston” from the days of the “Scotch professors” who were the backbone of the North End “Invincibles” of the 19th century.

    When Finney first went to Deepdale as a ground staff boy before World War II, the Preston team of Bill Shankly, Tommie Smith, Andy Beattie, Frank O‘Donnell, Jimmy Milne and George Mutch spoke with a distinct Scots accent and played the traditional Scottish-style passing game. Shankly was Finney’s “minder” when the precocious 16-year-old first began to torture defenders during the War years, then, when age took its toll on Glenbuck’s finest, the minder’s role was taken-up by Gorbals boy Tommy Docherty. Shankley and Docherty had their differences about football, but not about Finney. These two iconic Scottish managers both rated him the best player they had ever seen.

    Finney tasted early success in a War-time Cup-winning Preston side, before service with the Royal Armoured Corps as part of Montgomery’s Eighth Army “Desert Rats” and making such an impression in the Army team that he played for England in a “Victory International” before he had made his official league start for North End -  for which club he played a total of 437 games, scoring 187 goals, up until his retirement at the end of the 1960 season.

    Stanley Matthews had been an automatic choice as England’s outside right before and during the war, Finney’s arrival gave the England selectors a problem: which of these two outstanding outside rights to pick for the national side? The argument as to which was the greater player continues to this day. Walter Winterbottom, the England manager, found a answer when  his selectors dithered - persuading them to pick both, with Finney switching to outside left, where he was equally lethal.

    “Matthews was a wonderful winger, a real handful, but, when compared with Tom, Stanley was the easier player to play against”, said Rangers’ Sammy Cox, lauded by the English as the single Scotland full back to tame the “Wizard of Dribble” in internationals.

    “You knew what Stanley would do - go outside you, get to the bye-line and cross. Tom Finney gave you more problems, he could beat you on either side, and he was the greater goal threat with his ability to cut inside and score - he was one helluva player”.

    Matthews, after World War II, was content to lay-on goals for others, Finney could score too - his 30 goals for England was a record until overtaken by Bobby Charlton, while the Preston man also played inside forward and centre forward for England.

    His 76 internationals encompassed the World Cups of 1950, 1954 and 1958. Big Italian clubs offered him a fortune to sign for them, but, a Preston boy he was happy to play out his career at Deepdale, in spite of the club’s comparative lack of success. There are no League Championship or FA Cup-winner’s medals on his escutcheon.

    He had one chance at individual Wembley glory, in 1954, just a year after Matthews had inspired Blackpool to FA Cup victory. But, on the day Finney was less than fully-fit, had a rare quiet game and West Bromwich Albion came from behind to lift the trophy.

    With no wall-to-wall live football on television during his career, Finney was one player who could put ten or twenty thousand onto a gate. He was a genuine star, but always a quiet, grounded man.

    This may have owed something to the fact he was never a full-time footballer, to the exclusion of everything else. He lost his mother Margaret when he was only four; his father Alfred re-married and insisted his son complete his apprenticeship in the nearby Pilkington’s plumbing business. Even at a time when he was one of the biggest stars in the world game, after morning training at Deepdale, he would put on his overalls, pick-up his tool bag and fix leaking taps or blocked toilets around Preston.

    After retirement from the game and an emotional farewell at his beloved Deepdale, he built the firm up to be one of the biggest plumbing and heating businesses in the North West of England.

    His testimonial game brought stars from around Europe to pay tribute. Finney’s original plan had been for Shankly to be one of the linesmen, but the then Liverpool boss insisted on playing one last game behind “Young Tommy” -  and got his way.

    Finney, with his business to take care of, shied away from management, other than to be player-coach of an England touring side in the Far East in 1961 The young players who were on that tour spoke highly, however, of his man-management skills.

    Indeed, one of these young Englishmen, asked a couple of decades later, for a book, to select his best team - made up only of players he had taken the field with or against; on the basis of a couple of matches on that Far East tour, selected Finney. If Bobby Moore thought that highly of him, who are we mere mortals to quibble at his judgement?

    Sir Bobby Charlton, another of those English heroes of 1966 and the living conscience of the game in this country is another Finney fan. In his autobiography, charting his long England career he makes it clear, he grew up a Matthews man - regularly, with elder brother Jack, travelling to St James’s Park whenever Matthews played there for Stoke City or Blackpool. Matthews was his hero, until he won his debut England cap, in the 4-0 win over Scotland at Hampden in 1958, which was also Finney’s final appearance against Scotland.

    Finney’s run to the by-line and his delivery of the cut-back from which Sir Bobby scored the first - and some still say the best - of his 49 England goals, made the then 20-year-old Charlton realised he was playing with a genius and that Finney was a greater player than Matthews.

    Irrespective of the certain retribution to come from Shankly or Docherty, opposing players still targeted Finney for rough treatment; but such was his balance, he was seldom injured, even surviving an extreme kicking from Docherty during the 1955 Wembley international, in which England beat Scotland 7-2.

    The Preston chairman called Docherty into the board room for censure on the Monday morning, but Finney interceded on his friend’s behalf, insisting there were no hard feelings - the emphatic English victory, he reckoned, had scarred Docherty more than the Scot‘s attentions had him.

    In retirement, which he broke to appear for Irish League club Distillery, against Benfica in the European Cup in 1963,  he wrote an insightful football column for the News of the World for many years. He became president of North End, who named a stand after him, while a statue of him, “The Splash“, inspired by a famous newspaper of Finney running through an on-pitch puddle at Stamford Bridge stood outside the English Football Hall of Fame, which was inaugurated at Preston‘s ground. This institution has now moved to Manchester, but, the statue remains at Deepdale. He was naturally one of the founding inductees, but, even without home bias, he was a shoo-in. He was also Footballer of the Year twice, in 1954 and 1957.

    He joined the North End board, then became Chairman, before being given the honorary title of Life President. He was given the Freedom of Preston, and Honorary Fellowship from the Preston-based Lancashire Polytechnic - now the University of Central Lancashire, and an honorary LLD doctorate from the nearby University of Lancaster. He was made OBE in 1961, immediately following his retirement. This honour was upgraded to CBE, in 1992, then, in 1998, he followed Matthews into the ranks of footballing knights.

    It has been suggested that shared experiences in fighting Germany twice in the first half of the 20th century meant that while there was still rivalry, in the first two decades following VE-Day, there was none of the hatred between Scottish and English fans, which has developed since 1966 and all that.

    Before then, Scotsman and Englishman could, and often did, stand together on the terraces and admire the play of Finney and Matthews on one side and Young and Reilly on the other. That doesn’t happen today, indeed, you might argue that, since Finney, only Sir Bobby Charlton has managed to become equally-admired on both sides of the Solway.

    Tom Finney was a marvellous player, arguably the greatest-ever and one Englishman the Tartan Army would dearly have loved to have seen in a navy blue jersey. We shall not see his likes again.

    Both David Beckham and Finney wore the number seven shirt for Preston North End and England, in the eyes of most football historians, that’s as close as Beckham ever came to Finney.

    “Is David Beckham as good as Tom Finney?” Tommy Docherty was asked at the height of Beckhamania.

    “Probably, but you have to remember, Tom is in his eighties now and not the force he was”, was Docherty‘s response.

    He was predeceased by Lady Elsie, his wife of nearly 60-years, in 2004 and is survived by his son Brian and daughter Barbara and their families. Their pain at his passing is shared by everyone who cares about genuine footballing star quality.


 

Edinburgh Lady To Take Over Hearts - Will It Be Fur Coat and No Knickers?

THE suggestion that well-heeled Edinburgh lady Ann Budge might be about to become the power around Hearts has rather stirred-up things in Scottish Fitba this week. If this self-made millionairess can put things in order at Tynecastle, then, what already looks like an intriguing battle in the Scottish Championship next season, will be that bit more interesting.

There are even suggestions of a return to Tynecastle for the Craig Levein/Peter Houston management team, which would simply add to the interest. I cannot wait.



OF COURSE, this interest assumes the Rangers' tribute act is still around. To those of a Celtic persuasion who follow the exclusives of the man the rest of us love as Mad Phil, the Donegal Blogger, the death of this version of Rangers is imminent.

Mind you, he told his followers last week the biscuit tin was about to empty, the Chief Executive had walked then tabled his list of questions which he demanded must be answered to Ibrox.

A week on, there has been no "EXCLUSIVE" out of either Anderston Quay or Queen Street, or anywhere else for that matter, to the effect that Mr Wallace has walked away, the tribute act is still spending money willy-nilly and Mad Phil has been treated with the contempt he attracts down Edmiston Drive by getting the cold shoulder.

I still think the tribute act is one built on very little talent, a belief that you can fool Ra Peepul all of the time, but, I feel it will survive. After all, this is The Queen's XI we are talking about - and what happens when a King or Queen dies? The heir apparent steps up, the lieges shout: "God Save the King/Queen" and we carry on.

If this incarnation of Rangers follows the last one into oblivion, then another will have to be formed or invented - we all need a bogey man, or somebody to hate/loath/fear.



AS A Killie fan, I have been following with little interest the machinations around our beloved chairman and leader and his efforts to extract as much money as possible, as his price for handing over control of our copious debts to the next numpty.

Ayrshire haulage boss Billy Bowie was supposed to be the next saviour; putting a considerable amount of money into the club in order to stabilise things and build a brand new bright tomorrow to Rugby Park.

Bowie has been touted as "the Man", for some months now. This week the Kilmarnock Standard revealed - Bowie isn't even a shareholder - yet.

What's this? An Ayrshire version of the Dave King Show?

Bobby Brown Is Now The Grand Old Man Of Scottish Football

THE death last weekend of Andy Paton means that former Scotland goalkeeper and manager Bobby Brown is now The Grand Old Man of Scottish Football - the oldest living former Scotland cap.

 

In his 91st year, Brown remains sharp as a tack, still active and with much of the star quality he exuded as player and manager still intact. He is the single former cap in his tenth decade, although, God willing, his old comrade-in-arms from the 'Iron Curtain' Rangers defence, Sammy Cox, will shortly double the membership of the tenth decade club.

 

Paton was one of those players whose reputation has suffered from his not having played for either half of the Old Firm, but, he was a fine centre-half, ahead of his time in many ways through his ability to actually beat a man and play football, rather than being a simple, no-nonsense stopper.

 

Certainly, his form of skill-based defending had a profound effect on no less a defender than Billy McNeill, who, as a Lanarkshire boy, often went to watch Motherwell, rather than travelling into Celtic Park. In one of the tributes posted following Paton's death, McNeill paid fulsome tribute to his skills.

 

 

 

I FIND myself increasingly scornful of the English football media's efforts to manufacture a crisis around David Moyes' comparative lack of success since inheriting the Old Trafford hot seat from old Red Nose.

 

Whatever he did when taking over, Moyes was on a hiding to nothing. He did, after all, inherit the reigning English Champions. Had he done nothing, simply left the playing squad as was, he'd probably have been criticised for lacking a belief in his own ability, or worse, risked - although there wasn't the same mutual loathing - a sort of Brian Clough/Leeds United scenario.

 

But, you have to admit, he did take-over a good side, albeit one which needed freshening-up. He has done this, without perhaps getting the response he wanted, but, although they are out of the two English cup competitions and trailing in the league, most of the other English Premiership managers would surely give their eye teeth to be in Moyes' current situation.

 

OK, United are not, perhaps, providing the level of entertainment the prawn sandwich brigade might like, or the legend of the Holy Trinity and the Busby Babes might demand. Certainly, Fergie probably timed his retiral well, I don't think, even had he stayed, results would have been much different.

 

He needs to replace the Ferdinand/Vidic defensive axis, and, it is perhaps more Fergie's fault than Moyes's that the young pretenders to the central defensive roles haven't trained on as had been hoped for when they were signed.

 

But, a though for those who are calling for Moyes' head - have another look at the dvd of the Fulham game. Surely any side which can create the chances United made, will have more good days than bad days. With just a smidgeon of luck, that game would have finished 7-2 to United, rather than a 2-2 draw.

 

You write-off Moyes and United at your peril.

 

 

 

 

Not A Vintage Celtic Squad

I FEAR, once they have got enough mileage out of Mad Phil from Donegal's latest forecast of imminent doom for his great obsession, Ra Sellick Family just might turn their attention to what is wrong with their club at the moment.

 

This Celtic team bestrides 2014 Scottish football like a colossus. They are the richest club, the most-successful - but. Just why should there be a but? Given all the advantages Celtic currently enjoy, to slide out of the Scottish Cup, AT HOME, at the last 16 stage.....well, clearly all is not well in Paradise.

 

The current Celtic squad are hostages to the club's heritage. Winning is not enough, they MUST win with style to protect the heritage of "the Lions".

 

Well, I saw the Lions, by a distance Scotland's greatest club side. As the only one ever to win THE big prize in club football, the European Cup, they have to be seen as such. Yes, they played buccaneering, joyous football, but, while he liked them to win with style - Big Jock would have been equally happy with a scuffed, jammy 1-0 win, provided he got 100% from most of his side.

 

And that I think is the problem Neil Lennon faces. He doesn't have enough players who give 100% every game - yes, you Georgeos. I have said before, in domestic football, Celtic, and the other lot, face a test of character EVERY game. Each of the other Scottish teams they face will always have in their ranks, supporters who will crawl over broken glass to impress and show they, and not some over-paid, over-hyped, over-here foreigner should be wearing the hoops.

 

That same opposition will also include one or two Bears, determined to put Timmy in his place, and, if the foreigners cannot match up to this tribal fervour, Celtic will struggle.

 

Twenty-first century Celtic enjoys so many advantages over the other SPFL sides, anything less than a Treble every year reflects on the players - clearly they are not prime Celtic class. To a lesser extent, they reflect on Neil Lennon. He's doing his best, but, until he lands a domestic Treble, he will be considered and might even consider himself a less than complete Celtic manager.

 

Of course, he faces problems Big Jock nev er had to battle. Keeping Jinky outy of trouble and the lid on Bertie Auld's dark side were just about the biggest problems the Big Man faced; he never had to deal with foreign mercenaries, who were so-well paid, they seemingly never got or produced the passion the fans demanded.

 

That passion was posted missing on Saturday.

 

 

 

HAVING said that, well-done Aberdeen - a phrase which, unfortunately, never emerged from Neil Lennon's mouth in the aftermath (that I heard anyway).

 

Derek McInnes now has a chance, a real chance of providing a league double for the Dons, a feat which will, unfortunately for him, propel him closer to Fergie-like status in the north, and, he's no Fergie - yet.

 

The Dons are now hot favourites to lift both cups.

 

 

 

EXCEPT, in certain ludges across the country, the belief is growing that, amazingly, Ra Peepil will claim the Scottish Cup this season. It is true, cup upsets do happen, but, naw, I cannot see this Rangers' squad going all the way in the Scottish Cup.

 

Certainly, the quarter-final draw will be welcomed by the conspiracy theorists around London Road. Were the old square and oval balls slipped into the bag for the draw so that Rangers and Albion Rovers came out together?

 

Maybes aye, maybes naw - but, you have to admit, that draw suits Rangers.

 

By the way, I wouldn't write-off Stranraer at Inverness. This season already they have twice come back from being on the way out of the cup, to first draw with, then beat Auchinleck Talbot - at Beechwood too; and they have gone to Ibrox and got a draw.

 

ICT should be very wary of the threat offered by the team managed by the man known across the south west, from Paisley, to Kilmarnock, to Dumfries by the less than flattering nickname of "Ginger Prick".

 

Stevie Aitken was a bloody nuisance as a player, he's developing into a good motivating manager.  

Whit Team I Really Support

 WHEN it comes to declaring football allegiances in Scotland - it can be something of a minefield. Asked by a Weegie: "Whit team dae ye support?" the expected answer is either: Them, or The Other Lot. A response which doesn't instantly mark you out as "Blue/Orange" or "Green", normally brings the supplementary question: "Aye, but whit team dae ye REALLY support?"

A second answer not proferring either of the preferred choices, instantly has you marked down as: Simple, Somewhat Lacking, or A Liar, with a deficiency in moral fibre through your inability to admit to which side of the Twin Axis of Evil you come down on.

This protocol has always been puzzling to we Ayrshiremen. For instance - my order of allegiance is, in descending order: 1) Scotland; 2) Lugar Boswell Thistle; 3) Kilmarnock; 4) Anyone who is playing England.

This post is dedicated to my third love, Kilmarnock. My first exposure to the heartaches/joys of being a Rugby Parker came on a Boxing Day - Saturday, 26 December, 1959, at Rugby Park. Celtic were the opposition and Kilmarnock won 2-1 in front of 15,948 fans.

What had attracted me to Rugby Park? Why the debut of Andy Kerr, who lived just along the road from me and had just been signed from Manchester City. Andy linked-up with another local, the scandalously under-appreciated Bertie Black; and, I was Bertie's paper-boy.

To make the victory even more-memorable, Bertie scored the Killie opener, Andy got the winner, one of the most-amazing goals I had ever seen. He had got up at the back post to meet a Billy Muir corner, but could only head it back into the middle of the six-yard box, before he fell, on his back, beside the back stick. The only part of his body on the park was his right foot, and, as the scuffed follow-up shot rolled wide of the target, Andy simply flicked it past Frank Haffey, with the outside of his right foot, from that prone position and a distance of perhaps six inches. Told you it was a memorable strike.

I was hooked and can still rattle off that Kilmarnock team; Jimmy Brown, Jim Richmond and Matt Watson, Frank Beattie, Willie Toner and Bobby Kennedy, Vernon Wentzel, Jackie McInally, Andy Kerr, Bertie Black and Billy Muir - that's the XI against which all subsequent Kilmarnock teams are measured and generally found wanting.

That Willie Waddell-managed Killie squad were, with the great Hearts team assembled by Tommy Walker the principal contenders against a Rangers monopoly. Sure, the Celtic squad of the time had some great players, but, with Bob Kelly constantly interfering and over-ruling Jimmy McGrory, they were also-rans, awaiting the return of Jock Stein to put things right.

Sadly, once Waddell left, it became a long, slow decline to the third tier in Scotland, before the recovery which, today, has Killie as a mid-table Premiership side; maybe a run of bad results away from relegation, but, outsiders when it comes to a top-six place.

Back in 1959, before the A77 by-passed Kilmarnock, every Saturday a sad parade of buses trundled up and down King Street, Killie's main shopping thoroughfare, bound for Ibrox, Parkhead or wherever the Old Firm were playing that day. Killie diehards used to wonder, what the club might become if even half of these "glory hunters" were to switch their financial support to Killie. These same supporters club buses now by-pass Kilmarnock, but, that wonderment is still there.

I have honestly never thought that, apart from during the early days of the Fleeting brothers, Kilmarnock has properly tried to interest its Ayrshire constituency properly. I don't see that  ever happening in any case - the football mind-set in Scotland isn't tuned to such thinking.

But, I honestly believe, a properly-funded and managed Killie, could give Celtic (and Rangers if they ever get back) a run for their money, as they did 50-plus years ago, when I was a boy.

This will never happen under Michael Johnston, and it was sad this week to see yet another attempt to take-over the old club failing. I am no fan of the Chairman, but, I can see, if there is to be progress he will need to be bought-off, and he will not go cheaply. It is sad.

FINALLY - is there nobody around Ibrox capable of telling Ally Mccoist to: "Shut it". His latest pronouncement about Rangers' Scottish Cup chances simply demonstrates - he should have stuck to A Question Of Sport, where such nonsense is expected.

You know, Raith Rovers have previous when it comes to beating one half of the Old Firm in a national cup final, into which they go as cannon fodder.

A Division One and Ramsden's Cup double is far from a given, never mind a Triple Crown.

PMGB - Still Flogging A Dying Horse

I NOTE the font of all knowledge in matters concerning Rangers - the self-styled "Rhebel Journalist" Phil Mac Giolla Bhain - is now insisting Administration Two is just around the corner.

Actually, it wouldn't surprise me if he was to be correct. But, fear not PMGB; even if this incarnation of "Rangers" goes the way of the previous incarnation, you can look for the brothers along Hampden's corridors of power to move heaven and earth to facilitate the speedy integration of "Rangers Mark III" into Scottish senior football.

After all, if Rangers didn't exist - they would have to be invented, if only to fuel PMGB's obsession with Rangers and anti-Irish sectarianism.

There's money in this - as the men at the top down Kerrydale Street well know. The many successful grandsons and grand-daughters and their descendants, of the Irish diaspora who founded Celtic don't do the: "Nobody likes us and we care", they leave that to the dependancy junkies like PMGB, and get on with getting on, by their own efforts.

Yes the first, second and in some cases third generations of the Irish immigrants suffered intolerable institutionalised discrimination, but, they battled through. It is only the pathetic failures such as PMGB - who chose to turn his back on his native Scotland to piss into the tent, who continue to hide their inadequacies behind a plaintive: "Nobody likes us, and we care".

WHICH is not to say everything in the garden is lovely. The disgraceful events which overtook Neil Lennon at Tynecastle on Saturday were a blight on Scottish football.

Aberdeen has long had an element within their support which is every bit as bad, if not worse, than the worse of the old Old Firm "hooligan minority", but, you don't expect such behaviour in the main stand.

That said, I recall the 2000 Scottish Cup Final. The paper for which I then worked had won a media competition for the best Scottish Cup coverage, which entitled us to four seats in the best corporate hospitality section in the Hampden main stand.

It was not a pleasant experience, due to the poor behaviour of some of the supposedly well-heeled Aberdeen fans around us. So, I for one am not surprised that wee Neil was subject to ill-treatment at Tynecastle.

Celtic and Rangers have never had a duopoly on idiots.



OF COURSE, recent events leave one feeling that, while Celtic leave their idiots in the cheap seats, Rangers have allowed theirs to have the keys to the train set.

Musselburgh Windsor's efforts to take Rangers and Hearts to task for a failure to pay even the derisory £10 fee after enticing some promising kids away from Windsor into their own youth development programmes - which, in Rangers' case is perhaps an oxymoron - is laudable and should be supported by all.

Indeed, compensation fees for young player development  has long been a sore point among the lesser lights in Scotland. The sums paid are derisiory and ridiculous. Mind you, we have players in the senior game in Scotland who wouldn't get past pub football in most other European countries, so we shouldn't be surprised. If you pay peanuts, you get monkeys.

It is long past time compensation fees where increased, but, given the way the senior clubs rule the SFA, it aint gonna happen any time soon.

I recently wrote an obituary on Wee Bobby Collins and in the course of my researches I discovered, Collins, then an amateur, stood to pocket £1000 as a signing-on fee, had he chosen to join Everton as a teenager.

However, Celtic boss Jimmy McGrory hijacked the deal at the 11th hour and kept Collins in Glasgow. The Wee Barra didn't get his £1000, but got to stay at home, he also got a somewhat smaller singing-in fee from Celtic,while Pollok, his junior club, who would have got nothing had he gone to Goodison, got £200 from Celtic - so, it was well-worth their fighting the case.

That was in 1949 - I don't think the compensation to junior or youth clubs has risen since then. Everton, of course, did eventually get Collins, but they had to stump up an additional £24,000 - and more than £1000 in a signing-on fee to the Wee Barra himself.



LET'S hope Aberdeen and ICT can attract a half-decent crowd to Celtic Park for the League Cup final. Anything less than 10,000 and they'd have been as well holding it in Perth or Dundee.